Tag: #allauthor

How Can We?

How Can We?

How can we breed patriots

When we don’t teach our history?

From ‘Pilgrim Rock’ through

The great presidents of our time?

Valley Forge, the wars we’ve fought

For a country now harassed with hate?

How can we deplore so easily

With easy disdain and anger?

How can we be so blind of eye

As not to see the great rupture

In our land of milk and honey?

How can we not with haste defeat

This pestilence that so infects

Our hearts, our minds, our souls?

How can we be so hardened of heart

As not to feel compassion and joy?

How can we not feel pride in a

Nation that has so much to give?

How can we not stem the bigotry

That runs rancid in our streets?

How can we turn a Democracy

Into a totalitarian state of chaos?

What feeds this disease that now

Plagues our halls of government?

Please, tell me how can we revive

A country rich in history and glory?

How can we breed patriots

When we don’t teach our history?

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – March, 2019

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The House on Guthrie Place

The House on Guthrie Place

[All Dialogue]

“Hi, Sweetheart. Did you see the house?”

“Yes. It was immaculately beautiful, but I was frightened, Barry!”

“Why were you frightened, Edie?”

“It was the realtor’s eyes, I think, for the most part. They were menacing in their hungry stares, with an almost reddish-glow. It was enough to make me shiver with fear.”

“Where were you in the house? Which room in the house?”

“In the master bedroom. He was showing me how to work the on/off gas switch at the fireplace. It was a beautiful room, an awesome home with a rich and wonderful elegance. He bent down to reach the switch, and I bent over to see the spot and accidently brushed his side. When we stood up I had the strange notion he was going to grab me, and I took a step back toward the entry door to the master bedroom. That was the moment his eyes seemed to penetrate me, eyed me with a bold and scary stare.”

“What did you do then?”

“Well, I wasn’t positive my mind was recording the scene as I felt it so I tried to act normal, whatever that means, you know, I said: ‘Okay, can we see the kitchen and the patio area?’ and hurriedly took leave of the master bedroom.”

“And, did he show you the kitchen and patio area?”

“Yes, and as he opened the patio’s sliding glass-doors, he made body contact with me, and, I believe it was his intent to do so.”

“I rushed toward the hallway that leads to the front entrance and mumbled some silly gibberish, like, ‘Well, thank you for showing me the house. It’s very nice. I’ll bring my husband by to see it’.”

“Is that it, then, you just left? Where was the real estate agent when you left?”

“He followed me outside, acted befuddled, and yelled: ‘Are you alright, Mrs. Branson’?”

“I yelled back, ‘Yes, just running late, thank you’, and he had the last yell, ’you have my card, Mrs. Branson. Call me when you and your husband want to preview the house.’ Then, I zipped away from the curb fast, wanting to put distance between me and Nolan Wentz – just in case he planned on following me.”

“Are you sure in your own mind, Edie, that you’re not over-reacting to this encounter?”

“Well, not completely, no, and I would hate myself for the thoughts I had in that lovely house if I’m over-reacting… Call it whatever you will, Barry, but I felt my skin crawl with a ‘danger alert’, I’m convinced of that. His eyes were the ‘danger alert’, along with the touching in the master bedroom and at the patio sliding doors. With all of that, Barry, I loved the house, and you would, too. I know you would. We’ve been looking for exactly this house. I know you would love it. Are you thinking I’m embellishing all of this?”

“No, I don’t think that at all…just running the event in my mind. This could be very important, but it’s surely not enough to alert the police. Let me see his business card.”

“I put it in my purse… here, here it is.”

“Hmm, his name is Nolan Wentz…sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t know him. I’ve seen the name somewhere, likely in my travels.”

“What are you doing? Are you calling him?”

“Yes. I want to see the house, number one, because I want to get us out of this high-rise apartment, and, I want to check out this guy.”

“Are you sure, Barry? I do love the house, but do I have to go with you? I don’t want to see that guy again.”

 “Yes, I want you along, just in case we’re both of a mind to buy the place. I told you six months ago when we met and fell in love we would buy our dream house, and I intend to keep my word. The money is not an issue, and, if this is the house of your dreams and mine, we will buy it… shh, the phone is ringing.”

“Is Mr. Wentz in, please?”

“May I say who’s calling?”

“Barry Branson…he had a showing with my wife earlier and I would like to see the house.”

“Thank you, sir. Just a moment, please.”

“This is Nolan, how can I help you, Mr. Branson?”

“Hi, Nolan, call me, Barry, please. You showed my wife a house on Guthrie Place. She likes it very much so we would like to preview it again. When can you be available to show the house?”

“My time is easy, Barry. I can be at the Guthrie Place estate this afternoon or tomorrow afternoon. I have appointments in the morning.”

“Good. We’re easy, too, so can we meet at 3:00 PM this afternoon at the Guthrie Place residence?”

“I’ll be happy to meet you there at 3:00 PM, Barry. Your wife, I believe, has the gate code for Guthrie Place?”

“Yes, she has it, Nolan, so we’ll see you there at 3:00 PM. Good-bye.”

“Okay, Edie, you heard, we’re set for 3:00 PM. I know you’re nervous about seeing the guy, but I’ll be with you. Hey, it just could be our dream home.”

*

“The area is fantastic, Edie, so much greenery, flowers, trees, and the waterfall at the gate is a great selling point. The homes are all custom-built and so lovely.”

“Wait until you see the home, Barry. It’s fantastic. I just hope I’m wrong about Nolan Wentz.”

“Me, too, sweetheart. Hell, I feel at home already…”

“Okay, this is it, Barry, there, where the two tall palm trees stand. The Homeowners Association allows curb parking for possible buyers of property. Just park here.”

“Hey, I like our new house number, 711 Guthrie Drive. That’s a great number on the green felt of a Las Vegas casino crap table. Sounds somehow ‘right’ just saying it. I know, I know. We have a dual-purpose here. ‘Scope out Nolan Wentz and like the house’.

“Ah, the birds are tweeting, welcoming us to our new home, Edie…love the flagstone walkway treatment and drive-way. Hmm, I see Mr. Wentz at the front door waiting for us. Good-looking dude. How nice, big smile and all. Hope you’re wrong about the man, Edie.”

“Hi, folks, come on in. Welcome to your new home…sorry if I’m being presumptuous, Mr. and Mrs. Branson. Just trying for levity. How are you, Mrs. Branson? You left so fast earlier today, you had me worried.”

“Just running late to meet Barry for lunch.”

“Well, why don’t I put away my sales pitch and you two make the rounds inside and out. I’ll be right here in the parlor if you need to ask questions about anything, anything at all…”

“What lovely furnishings! Edie never mentioned…”

“Oh, she didn’t know, but all the furniture stays. It’s ‘turn-key’ and that includes all the kitchen goodies, china, silverware, plates, the whole enchilada, as they say… An unfortunate divorce and neither one wants to come near the house again. Crazy, huh? You, Barry, I’m betting, will fall in love with the exercise room and large steam shower – it will seat at least six people, that is, if there’s a need for that many…but, you two go ahead and make yourselves at home. Each residence in Guthrie Place sets on one-half acre and most of the homes have pools and spas, out-door kitchens, and very lovely landscaping…yell if you need a question answered…”

“Nolan’s a good-looking guy, Edie. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would come onto a client…not that I think you were mis-representing anything…just saying.”

“You know, I agree, Barry. It all had to be just me! Gawd! It’s like I’m previewing this beautiful residence for the first time. I just love it…”

*

“Nolan, we…oops, sorry, didn’t see the cell phone…”

“I’m off now… So, what do you think of 711 Guthrie Place?”

“We think you need to get our offer written up and to the sellers ASAP. We want a fast closing, and it’s a cash deal.”

“Oh, be quiet, my heart. It’s thumping wildly. Are you talking a full-price offer?”

“Yes, no, haggling! Everything stays as it is – all things we see here stays here. Understood?”

“Understood, for sure. That is exactly the way the sellers wanted it…sorry if my handshake is a bit moist, Barry and Edie. This is quite a day for me. You just put me in the sales-leader position at the agency. Thank you so very much. I will require a fairly high sum down. Is that a problem?”

“No, that’s no problem. Give me a figure and I’ll write a check. To whom do I make the check out?”

“Langley Escrow Service…you understand I’m sure the mortgage company must do a search for any liens and so forth. It’s routine to check your bank for the rather high deposit amount. There must be a ‘close of escrow’ as well, so it will all take a few days. Is that a problem for you?”

“No, no problem.”

“Again, thank you so much. I’ll be sending you copies of paperwork as we go through this procedure. Mailing stuff can take a few days, or, if you like, I can drop the paper off to you. Mailing it will take up to a week, maybe longer, with real estate transactions running sometimes a bit slow.”

“Mail is fine. No need for the legwork…”

*

“Why did you make the check so big, Barry?”

“Well, they’re going to get the full amount anyhow… 1.5 million! This way, maybe we get into our new home a bit quicker.”

“True, but half the amount, $750,000? Ah, you know what you’re doing. I love you, big guy. It is such a beautiful house. Hopefully, by the time you get back from your 10-day trip to Cincinnati, all the paperwork will be done, and we’ll move in with just our suit-cases. To be honest, I’ll miss our luxury high-rise condo, but all that room at our new place…so much fun in the anticipation. ”

“If the close comes faster and they want the rest of the money, you write the check. Okay?”

“Sure, if you want me to. God! The pen in my hand will shake, writing a check that big. I love you, Barry, and thank you for our beautiful new home.”

*

“Hey, Edie, I’m home. Edie. You here, Edie? Hmm, she knew when I was getting home. Probably, shopping…”

*

“Yeah, operator, how do I get information? I can’t seem to get it on my phone…”

“Hang on, sir. I’ll connect you to ‘information’.”

“Information…can I help you?”

“Yeah, can you find the number for Langley Escrow Service?”

“Just a moment, sir…”

“How are you spelling that name, sir?”

“Langley…L-A-N-G-L-E-Y, Escrow Service, unless there is no ‘e’ at the end of Langley.”

“Just a moment, sir.”

“Sir, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here…what’s the number?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I find no number for Langley, L-A-N-G-L-E-Y, Escrow Service listed.”

“No, no, there’s got to be a listing for Langley Escrow Service. I just bought a house that went through Langley Escrow Service.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I do not have a listing for that company.”

“You must have. C’mon, check again…”

“Just a moment, sir…”

“Sir?”

“Yes.”

“There is no Langley Escrow Service listed in our city, sir. I’m terribly sorry for your inconvenience.”

“My inconvenience! My inconvenience! That company has my money. You have to have it listed.”

“I’m so sorry, sir. Would you like to speak to my on-duty supervisor?”

“Yes. Yes, let me speak to your supervisor. My God, when the phone company can’t help you, what the hell…”

“Hello, Sir, I’m the Supervisor on duty, and I’m so sorry to make you wait. The operator stated the problem, sir, and she told you correctly. We do not have a listing for Langley Escrow Service.”

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

*

“Can I help you, Sir? You look like you could use some help.”

“I need to talk to one of your detectives…

“What’s the problem, Sir?”

“I’ve been swindled out of one million five hundred thousand dollars.”

“Geez. That is a problem… When did this swindle happen?

“Two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago, huh?”

“That’s what I said. I didn’t stutter. I’m hurting here! Get me a detective.”

“Hey, don’t get snappy with me, Pal…(hmm, if this guy has just lost one and a half million dollars, I’m Queen Elizabeth without the sex-change…) Hold on a minute, Sir. I’ll get a detective.

©Short Story by Billy Ray Chitwood – March 5, 2019

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Felix and Fred -Putting Up A Fence

(Image by vipul uthaiah)

Felix and Fred

-Putting Up a Fence-

 “C’mon, don’t give me that crapola! You know that I don’t buy into your atheist beliefs. You’re a close-minded ‘know-it-all’.”

“Hey, you started the conversation.”

“How do you get there, ‘me’, starting the conversation?”

“You asked me what I thought about ‘climate change’…”

“And?”

“And, you used the word, God, in your question.”

“I said, ‘For God’s sake’, how can these young progressives be so stupid as to put ‘climate change’ as the number one problem facing the country?”

“Right, and I said, ‘God has nothing to do with it. There is no God. So, you got pissed and called me names.”

“Look, Fred, let’s get something straight here. We’ve had this lively chat before, and I keep telling you, ‘keep the atheist crap to yourself’, but somehow you always get the conversation over into the domain of metaphysics and intellectual inquiry, trying your damndest to charm me with your intellect, to turn me in a direction I’m not about to go… So, once, and for all the ‘next times’, I believe in a higher intelligence, a Deity, a God, not that ‘big bang’ you bring into just about every conversation we have. Now, you’re entitled to believe whatever you wish to believe, but, I say, but, when I make it clear to you where I stand on an issue, don’t keep bringing up your so-called belief of life being ‘nothingness’, that generic man gets only one chance at this thing we call life, implying we who do believe in God are all idiots.”

“Felix, your argument has no credibility, but…”

“Why, you arse-hole, my argument has no credibility? What? The Sun rises and sets. The tides move with the Moon. A baby is born in very precise stages, alive in a woman’s womb, sustained by the miracle of a woman’s bodily make-up, brought into a world where he or she or they can achieve remarkable feats, or, simply live a life, good or bad, until death claims them. Faith gives Life meaning, a purpose, to create, to explore the depths of knowledge, to live in hope of something ‘beyond’ the earthly realm. The mystery of death beguiles and haunts the thinking man in search of his soul’s quest…oh, but, not you. You don’t doubt, you know ‘with avid certainty’ that darkness awaits at the end of our breathing… You know, because I’ve told you before, Fred, we could have perhaps lively and fun conversations about life and death if you could admit to Agnosticism. But, no, not you. You’re really bright, but I wish you had some honest humility. Ah, I’ve had my say. Let’s finish this fence and stop talking for a while, Fred. Okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure, it’s okay with me, but, hell, Felix, we all have beliefs. I’m sorry I make you so angry, but I’m just speaking from my mind, not my heart.”

“That’s cute, Fred, that little ‘transference thing’ you just did, but don’t be using one of ‘our’ words in this conversation.”

‘Our words’, Felix? Oh, and which word is that, my enlightened friend?”

“The word is hell, Fred. Don’t use it, because you’re violating your belief system. Hell when used by atheists must mean that, in their most private moments, they think of Heaven and Hell! How’s that, my egotistical friend? Now, hand me another cinder block for the fence. We’re almost at the end. A few more yards will do it.”

“Are we okay, Felix? I mean, we still friends? I never know when you go on your rants”

“Rants, huh? I guess you’re talking about my superior logic… Yeah, of course, Fred. We’re still friends. Who else would listen to your brain farts? You make me mad with your mind-set, but we’ve been around too many corners to turn around now. We couldn’t find our way back home. You see, my God was feeding me my lines just now. Who was feeding you your lines?”

“The little guy in my brain.”

“Guess that’ll have to do.”

“We’ve been friends and next-door neighbors for years now, Felix. You figure this fence is a symbol for our disagreements?”

“Hell, no. I just don’t like watching you chase your lovely wife all around the back yard in your birthday suit. That ‘picture’ is not exactly pretty for you, but I’ve fallen in love with your wife.”

“That’s just mean, Felix, even though I’m smiling. That kind of thinking won’t get you to heaven.”

“You’ll never know. Now, hand me the the cinder block, arse-hole.”

Billy Ray Chitwood – March 3, 2019

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Some Thoughts on “Dominique”

There’s a guy in our neighborhood that is ‘dumb’ as squat – whatever the hell that means! At least he is when it comes to the machinations of the internet! Now, don’t get me too far wrong. I’m really fond of the guy. He’s smart, just likely not as smart as he thinks he is, he’s got this genetic structure inside that brain of his that goes a bit haywire at times…

Okay, let me nip this quickly in the bud because this guy is super nice most of the time and does in fact write some great books. It is humble I, says me, the author of this post…

Now, don’t be splitting a gut laughing at me. You know how the blood pressure rises when you’re tormenting your wife and cat – substitute, dog(s) if it’s more fitting to your clan. Hell, I had to start this post some which way, so I decided I might as well soothe my nerves by writing in this sort of ‘free-wheeling’ style. Indeed, writing is my ‘forte’, not only am l one of the very best authors you will ever read, I’m also so focused and locked in when I’m writing, and, today, well, I really needed some ‘existential love’. Hey, that sounds like a really good title for a book. I just might have to write it.

Okay, here’s the itch I’m trying to scratch, the ‘rub’ for the day…well, for the last three days actually! 

I just published a book entitled, Dominique, and it was so much fun to write. AND, I do believe it is one of the best books among my many happy labors – really close to “Mama’s Madness,” “Stranger Abduction,” “Hammer’s Holy Grail,” “The Pickett Factor,” well, yeah, I believe all my eighteen books are darned good, warts and all. With “Dominique,” I played ‘graphic designer’ and did my own book cover, didn’t like it, and, for the past three days have been working my brain overtime changing book covers on that really good novel, Dominique. I’ve gone through three covers in the last three days, and I’m really expecting to hear some angry words from those good folks at Amazon about these ‘cover turnarounds’! But, good news, finally, I did come up with a cover I’m not changing. Funny thing, I liked all three except the first one into which I inserted my good – no, my excellent, prose!

So, although unlikely, some of my followers might find different book covers of Dominique running loose on Amazon – MY BAD! Apparently, like so many of my titles, I’m doing a lousy job in the marketing area, doggone it! I would welcome some sales and some reviews. I’ve got my marketing armor on this evening, just in case, but I just know you’re going to like my books. They are almost dainty and dignified like literary stuff I once read in college – almost, I say, but it surely won’t interfere with your enjoyment…I promise that!

Okay, I’ve had my say!

I hope you like my new cover for “Dominique,” but along with that I hope you buy it and leave book reviews.

No more begging for tonight! 

It’s bedtime here in ‘Twilight’. Between cursing and my wife shaking her head at my madness, I’ve watched bits of news this evening I could have easily done without, but, by my reckoning, this orb we call earth will keep right on orbiting and I’ll keep right on tweeting, retweeting, and, yeah, writing and begging!

Billy Ray Chitwood – February 28, 2019

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writi

 

Altar of Remembrance

Altar of Remembrance

All things you are to me I now render unto our altar of remembrance…

No long list this of platitudes and love words written idly…

Our love deserves a solemn, sublime space here in the domains of our souls…

Reach gentle fingers to your heart and watch the wispy thoughts of yesterday rise softly before you…

With caressing fingers hold the moments that filled us with memories for the ‘morrow…

Smile with dreamy eyes the awkward delivery of our first kiss…

Ah, the wafting scent of the fragrances we sprayed on our bodies…

And the blushes we could not hide during the early blooming of our love…

The tedious nourishing of those magical moments when our bodies touched in the night…

The balladeers and violins of enchanting moments at our favorite bistros…

So many endearments…and I must leave you now with a misty good-bye…

Billy Ray Chitwood – February, 2019

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Fixed to the Spot

Fixed to the Spot!

She was so lovely!

My eyes were fixed to the spot! Never had I felt so much alive, a desire so keen that my blood was rushing to my head and to my heart. I felt on the verge of delirium, with an excitement coarsing through my veins with such intensity it could erupt any moment. If it were a sports competition no one would beat me in the hundred-yard dash. It was all so dazzling, this power surge and adrenaline spill-over.

Okay, I was hypnotized by her beauty and could not pull myself away from  her sexy lure. The thoughts that passed through my mind could get me arrested and locked away for a time. ‘Oh, baby, I would show you some moves’! 

Fixed to the spot, I could not move, did not wish to move, my eyes absorbing every nuance of movement her curvaceous body made. She was without question the most enchanting creation ever seen by these aging but beastly alive orbs. Her curves caused me to emit an unexaggerated ‘Oo-la-la’! All my senses were alerted to her beauty, and it no longer mattered that the people standing nearby could see my drool. Jeez, they had eyes! Why were they not looking at her? Was I some kind of ‘nut’ in a ‘freak show’?

If ever there was a more exquisite shape of loveliness, if ever there were lines so perfectly molded…Ooh, be still, my heart! Transfixed as I was in those moments, nothing mattered more than that body in front of me. I had to have it, and have it I would! No one could talk me out of having that body! It was mine! All mine.

I grabbed the nearest hungry-looking car salesman and purchased that handsome ‘Hunk of Metal’ on the spot.

Eat you heart out, world!

She’s all mine!

Billy Ray Chitwood – February, 2019

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Lazy Moments in Time

Lazy Moments in Time

What folly this

That binds me,

Betrays me,

Leaves me here,

In this strange

Subtle land?

Glory must

Surely shed

Its light

On yonder

Brows,

Not mine!

Here,

Dreams live,

Greatness appears,

And, so soon

Expires…

What fool am I

To stand among

These great

Images of

Proud history?

Tis Folly here!

Must be folly

For I see not

My Image

Smiling back

At me!

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 31, 2019

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Lost in Moscow

Lost in Moscow

I gently touched the man’s arm as he walked by: “Sorry to bother you, sir. Do you speak English?”

The man turned quickly to face me, angry with my touching, shook his head from side to side, pursed his lips, looked me up and down, and finally spoke, “Nyet!” the Muscovite said in a low angry voice and walked away, disappeared around a corner.

“My God! What am I going to do? I’m freezing”

I stood slumped over, leaning against a cold gray brick building on a near-deserted street corner in Moscow. My hands were stiff from the cold Moscow weather.

Does the sun ever shine in this God-forsaken city?

The thought lingered in some stoic wilderness of my mind until my plight hammered its message to some core of my being and tears came. Stop worrying about ‘sunshine’! You’ve got bigger problems!

My plight?

No memory! I have no memory of coming to Moscow. I’m, just, here!

Ask me, what were you doing fifteen minutes ago?

My answer to my own question.

I don’t know.

Now, I’m shaking my head. What did I just say? Did I just now ask:  what were you doing fifteen minutes ago?

Yes, I did ask that question. Just, now, I asked that question. Well, what’s your answer?

My answer? Did I just say, what’s your answer?

Yes. Well, do you have an answer?

Do I have an answer to what?

To, what?

I don’t know.

A woman is passing.

“Maam, sorry to bother you, but do you speak English?”

The woman smiled slightly and continued walking.

A Young boy, maybe fourteen, fifteen, is coming down the sidewalk.

My head is spinning.

I’m falling, sliding down the side of this cold gray brick building.

The young boy is stopping, leaning over me, asking me something. His words are lost in my spinning head and I feel my body falling sideways to the snow-covered sidewalk.

*

“Can you hear me, young lady? Young lady, can you hear me? Her eyes are open. She must hear me. Please, young lady, we’re trying to help you. Can you hear me?”

I can hear a man’s voice, a gentle voice, asking me a question. I’m trying to answer, but I’m having difficulty forming my words.

“She’s trying to speak. Her lips are moving… Quickly, let’s get some water down her…slowly, lift her slowly, that’s good. She’s having trouble, but she’s getting some of it down her…that’s enough for now…she wants to say something…”

“You speak English,” I say so quietly. I have no volume to my voice. I’m scared.

“She’s trembling! She’s frightened! Yes, we speak English. You’re okay, young lady. Do you know your name?”

“Becky Whitsel.” Still lacking volume.

“Where are you from, Becky?”

“I’m from Philadelphia. Why am I in Moscow?”

The people dressed in white and green look strangely at each other. The male in green asks me: “What’s the last thing you remember, Becky?”

“A street corner in Moscow.”

The doctor has a suspicion, and asks: “Are you an avid reader, Becky?”

“Yes.” My voice is coming back.

“What have you recently read, Becky?”

Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak.”

The doctor smiled. “Are you taking any medications, Becky?”

“No, sir.”

The doctor smiled again. “It’s okay, Becky. I want you to feel really comfortable. I’m only doing an assessment. Don’t be afraid to answer my questions. You will not be punished for speaking the truth. You said just a moment ago you were on a street corner in Moscow. Do You remember saying that?”

With some timidity, I answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, have you by any chance – and, again, please don’t be afraid to answer. We’re only getting to the root of your problem. We will tell no one what you tell us here – have you by any chance taken any drugs or smoked marijuana recently? Please, don’t be afraid to answer. You will not be disciplined.”

Embarrassed, I answer, “Yes, sir. It was my first time – and, only time, I promise. Some school friends and I, just experimenting after school.”

“Okay, Becky, tell me about last week, about your family, and where you live.”

Somehow, with the smiles all around me, I opened up and gave them more information than they likely needed. When I was finished with my short bio, the doctor sent a nurse out to call my mother. Geez! I’m home…good old Philadelphia!

“Don’t worry, Becky, your mother will not hear anything from us, but you must confess to her yourself – and promise her you’ll never do any kind of drugs again… You have had what we in the profession call ‘Global Transient Amnesia’. You will be fine now…but, again, young lady, no more experimenting with drugs. You do understand, right?”

“Oh, yes sir! I can easily answer that question!”

The little gathering with my close friends after school had given me an unexpected reaction I would never wish to go through again… Indeed, me, in the great city of Moscow…and in the winter.

NO MORE GRASS!

We have our own snow in Philadelphia AND it’s much friendlier!

A ‘Flash Piece’ by Billy Ray Chitwood – January 27, 2019

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Sought and Fought for Naught

Sought and Fought for Naught

-Nine Haikus All in a Row, with a Theme-

*

It was never clear

That dream-set inside of me

Along each new day…

 

The abstract nature

Of my humble beginnings

Ever in my way…

 

On the lonely trek

Were stark ugly mementos

To echo my past…

 

Then, into Twilight

Doubts and fears were soon to pass

As my mind could fast…

 

At last it did seem

That olden days meant little

To a now dull mind…

 

Ahead comes darkness

Morphing to eternal light

Perhaps, to happily dream.

 

But, if not to dream,

Then, perchance, darkness alone,

Shakespeare did foretell.

 

Demons come and go

Through dark eternal passages

Shadowed walls of Hell.

 

Doth Fate have in store

This horror scene, prithee tell,

What is heaven for?

*

-Nine Haikus with which to explain a Life-

By Billy Ray Chitwood – 01/26/19

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Chance Meeting at the Mall

Chance Meeting at the Mall

It began when I saw her in the upper-level of the Brighton Mall. She placed her paper bag of purchases on the floor next to her cushioned seat. Avoiding her was not an option as the sitting area was in my path to the escalator.

Of course, you would know, she was beautiful as she sat and shook her head to resettle her long lovely raven curls. She was dressed in lovely colors of Ivory and Lavender, a dress sheer and clinging – like, my eyes at that moment.

My mind did its calculations…do I just stop, sit in the chair next to her, begin a conversation. What do I say as an opener? Her left hand was gloved so, married or not, I was ‘flying in the blind’. It was one of those fateful moments in life where one must decide to act or not to act, with the haunting of the latter lingering forever in the mind… I decided to act.

I sat in the chair next to her. There were other chairs in the grouping, but other shoppers were passing, chatting, and I wanted to be close so as not having to increase the decibel level of my voice.

Please, allow me to pause and explain…

First, my name is Lawrence Wallenby, just, Larry, will do, and I’m a trim six-footer who stays in shape by jogging and exercising – which once, in starting out, was a chore, but, now, something I look forward to. I’m told by some of my staff at the Agency that I bear the looks of actor Matthew McConaughey. That’s good, I think, because I like his acting.

I am not a ‘stalker’ who frequents shopping malls for women to meet and harass. I am a responsible male person who owns his own small advertising enterprise, growing by leaps and bounds, I might add. I am a man who some months ago lost his wife to a drunk driver in a head-on collision. Both were killed, and I had my days, weeks, and months to damn the fiddlers of fate who perform these acts so people can grieve and crawl into themselves and become inoperably viable. So, time did not, would not heal the wound of losing Diana, but, at least, it would have the courtesy to allow the ‘devastation’ period to pass – to the point of having needs to fulfill.

May I apologize if this preceding acknowledgement is not enough a prelude to what I’m about to narrate for you. Suffice, Diana is still in a precious vault of my heart, but I’ve come to realize that life does indeed go on and old needs come rushing back in need of fulfilling.

The handsome lady with the raven hair, soft blue eyes, and most luscious lips glanced up at me with an awkward, almost, smile, and then went quickly back to a piece of paper on her lap – presumably, a ‘shopping list’.

“Holiday shopping can be a real ‘bear’, don’t you think?” Without giving her a chance to answer, I pressed forward. “Of course, you do. You’re sitting here, resting, so, obviously, shopping ergo is a ‘bear’ or your choice of animal. I know you are wondering who the ‘nut’ is sitting next to you, and I implore you not to get up and leave with my muttering hanging in the air. Really, I’m not so great at this, but I do honestly and sincerely believe you are the most beautiful lady I’ve seen in my lifetime. Is it okay that we might meet? Please.”

“Wow, you should take a breath between syllables. You’ll pass out, I’m thinking. Sure, why not? We’re in a public arena here, people passing by, and you don’t seem to be carrying weapons of any kind. So, sure, let’s ‘meet’. I’m Diana Bixley.”

“No, no, you can’t be… I mean, your first name – pick another first name!”

“I’m sorry. Now, you’re confusing me. I thought your little rushed ‘pick-up’ line was cute, but…are you some kind of nut?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m so sorry to blunder like this. Your first name, Diana, is a beautiful name, and you should keep it. Of course, she should and will keep it, you idiot. Again, sorry, but I lost my wife to a drunk driver about a year ago, and her name was Diana.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. I’ve gone through the periods of loss and find that I still wish to go on, but I’ve been with no one for that period of time and very likely don’t know how to act properly. May I start again? My name is Larry Wallenby, and, when I saw you, my heart did little ‘flip-flops’ and I had to meet you. Please, is that okay? I mean, that I had to meet you?”

“Relax, Larry, I’m happy to meet you, and I’m sorry about your wife.”

She offered her hand which I swiftly but softly clutched for some two or three seconds before releasing.

“Are you encumbered?” Too fast, too fast, you dummy.

“I beg your pardon.”

“I’m sorry, again, Diana, but I’m such a ‘Klutz’ at this. Are you married, going steady with anyone?”

“You’re fast, Larry, but I suppose that comes from your loss and grief period. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but, no, I’m not married, not going steady with anyone.”

My heart-beat got faster. Now, don’t screw this up, Larry. Take a shot, but slow down the process. You got the answer you wanted. There’s a chance, so don’t screw it up.

“Do you have children, Diana?”

“No, I’m not too big on kids. They annoy me, mostly. I’m sure I did my annoyance bit as a kid. You have kids, Larry?”

“No, no kids. No animals of any kind, although I love Golden Retrievers. You like animals?”

“Not so much. Better than kids, but the ‘clean-up’ and routines would drive me nuts. Your business keep you busy, Larry?”

“As much as I allow it to keep me busy. I’ve got some good people working at the ad agency that keep the load off me. What do you do, Diana?”

“I’m an actress and model, Larry. I’ve done nothing memorable in film that you would remember seeing. Most of my action is in modeling and ‘specialty films’.”

“You enjoy what you do, Diana?”

“Very much so, Larry. You?”

“Yeah. I was drawn to advertising at a young age for some reason, likely because my Dad had a ‘Billboard’ business. I was fascinated enough by it to take all the courses relative to advertising while in the university environment. The business has been good for me. The people who work with me free me up to pursue other interests, like traveling to exotic places. Do you travel a lot in your business, Diana?”

“Too much, actually. I don’t like airport waits and all the security crap one has to go through anymore… I notice you have no packages, Larry. Are you not shopping? Did you just come to the mall to meet me?”

“Well, while that’s a nice thought, I did plan to pick up some items for my sister and my staff, but now it’s not so important. I can put it off ‘til another day. That is, if I can talk you into cocktails and dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful, Larry. And, what would your plans be after our dinner?”

Hey, she’s playing right into my hand. How can I get so lucky? Hell, I’ll lay it out for her.

“Well, to be honest, Diana, I thought we could go to my place, have nightcaps, listen to some romantic music, turn the lights down low, and see where it all would lead us.”

“Larry, you scoundrel! You do work fast. However, I’m afraid I would spoil your plans.”

“I doubt that, Diana. You’re so beautiful, and I’m sure we would get along just fine.”

Oh, she’s getting up, reaching for her shopping bags.

“Thank you, Larry, for the dinner and romance offer, but I will pass and just say, ‘nice meeting you’.”

“But, Diana, I thought…”

“You thought, what, Larry?”

“I thought we were bonding nicely…”

“By bonding, you mean you thought I would jump in the sack with you, correct?”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I thought we were heading toward something really romantic and beautiful.”

“Really?” She stood and for a moment hovered over me.

I stood and faced her.

“Was it something I said, Diana?”

“No, it was something I did not say, Larry…”

“And, what was it you did not say, Diana?”

“Well, if I say it, no longer will it be not said, Larry.”

She started to walk away.

“Diana, please, tell me what was not said.”

She looked back at me, and, with a slight raise of brow and grin, said, “I like to go to bed with women, Larry…nice meeting you.

Damn, it ended where it started!

Flash Fiction by Billy Ray Chitwood – January 21, 2019

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